


From Animals with Love

by clarityhiding, Fancy_Dragonqueen



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Damian Wayne Feels, Depression, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, animals help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 04:23:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20988797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarityhiding/pseuds/clarityhiding, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen
Summary: Five Times Damian helps his family in a special way and one time where they all come to rescue him





	1. Jason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkyubus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyubus/gifts).

> With lovely art from the amazing
> 
> [clarityhiding](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarityhiding)
> 
> Thank you for it!  
She's gone all out and arted something for every chapter!  
Please comment on the art too <3 It somehow occurs to me that most times in bangs most people don't comment the art so if you comment which we really loved! Please leave a comment for that too <3

Jason didn't know when it would start again.

He didn't know when the thoughts would come back. Didn't know when the world would start to black out and turn into green, green, green. Jason didn't know when his head would start to hurt, when the noises would became too much, when the smells would made him want to vomit and his fingers would want to get rid of his clothes because everything would become too much, too fast at once.

The only thing he knew was that he wanted it to stop.

He had been good. Everything had been great in the last few weeks. He and the family were hitting it. Yesterday he had talked to Bruce without them yelling at each other. Dick would come to his safe house in a few days, not the one he was in right now, but the one all of the family knew about.

It didn't make sense why it started now.

It had been good...

Jason could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his legs were too weak to stand on, didn't fight when he sank down and leaned against the couch.

The safehouse was dark, he didn't need the light right now, would only hurt his eyes. But not lighting it up would deepen the shadows in the corner of his eyes, would make him see shadows and people that weren't there.

He just couldn't get up.

Jason knew that it was ridiculous. The panic tightening his chest, the tremors in his body. The way his thoughts went down back into the pit, into the grave where everything had been dark and scary, back to being a fifteen year old, hurting all over with injuries that he shouldn't have survived, throat rough from screaming for his father.

Bruce.

They had talked about it. Talked about panic attacks. Bruce had sat him down, told him that it was a normal thing to have.

Weirdest conversation with Batman ever.

Not Batman.

Bruce.

Even Dick had them.

At least that's what he had told Jason. It was normal, not something you need to fight, not something you could fight at all.

No, that wasn't right.

He had learned how to cope with them, how to fight against them but sometimes, sometimes like right now he didn't remember. Couldn't find the words, couldn't find the strength to snap out of it.

There was a pain on his head, his hair being pulled. Confused, he registered that it were his own hands that were buried in his own hair, yanked at it. Sometimes that happened, sometimes his body acted on his own, to hurt himself to snap out of it. Sometimes it helped.

Most of the time it just made him feel bad about it. Bruises and wounds that he couldn't explain with their nightly activities, injuries that reminded him of his own body failing him.

Most of the time it sent him right back into another attack.

Something hot was leaking onto his face and when his tongue darted out he smelled salt.

Tears.

God.

On days like these he was fucking glad that his family didn't know about this safehouse.

Something heavy flopped onto his lap, made him yelp and try to shove at whatever was attacking him, weak fingers touching hair. Not skin. More like, not even human hair.

A long tongue lapped his face, making him freeze in the attempt to shove the suspect away.

For a moment he just stared dumbly into the face of a very large, dark dog. A very familiar dog to be honest.

That's why he hadn't felt an intruder, hadn't felt unsafe enough to snap out of it and just kill the intruder, which would have been bad, would have made him feel bad. Especially in hindsight, because Bruce always knew what happened.

"Titus," he whispered, getting a happy woof from the dog, that wriggled his tail happily at him only to flop down into his lap a second later, making Jason gasp. Titus wasn't a lightweight.

Jason didn't know how the dog had found him. The safehouse wasn't known to anyone except himself and he had never seen the dog without his owner.

"Todd."

Speaking of the devil.

The little demon brat was standing in front of him, towering over Jason as if the house belonged to him. Jason didn't even have the time to feel ashamed of his state: the tears on his face, the unruly hair and the fact that he was still wearing his uniform and only one shoe because the other one had been lost somewhere in the kitchen with his helmet.

"My appearance is demanded in the Titan Tower. It is your mission to care for Titus. I will be back next Wednesday."

With that the boy was gone.

Leaving Jason and a content snoring Titus in his lap.

What.

He didn't even have dog food. Or a bowl. Or the time to take care of a dog.

"Wait! Demon brat! Come back!"

No help. Damian was already gone.

Jason leaned his head back, closed his eyes for a second. The warm weight on his lap shifted a bit, the dog wriggling to make himself comfortable on Jason's legs. Carefully he patted the dogs head, scratching behind his ears.

"How did he even know where to find me."

Surveillance. Stalking. That's how bats showed they cared, whispered a quiet voice in his head.

Hah.

As if.

But then again he had never cared for another human being, not even starting with a pet. He only had ever petted and fed the feral dogs on the streets, never ones that already lived with humans. Never one that was spoiled with enough love to kill a human.

"I need toys for you. And food."

Jason murmured and scratched Titus some more, not making a move to get up. It was nice to sit like that, to just pet the dog. Too confused to think back what had just happened. He still felt a bit down, tired from the thoughts crashing down but there was no fear lingering in his bones, no shadows lurking in the corners. 

It felt nice.

He would still hunt the brat down and color his uniform neon for breaking into his safehouse, seeing him broken down like that and making him a damn pet sitter.

Once he managed to shove Titus from his legs - a task that took him a bit longer than he wanted to admit - he slowly stood up, reaching for a glass of water from the kitchen sink only to see what had happened. There was dog food neatly stacked in the kitchen, the bowl with TITUS on it - a perfect replica of the one he already had in the manor. It didn’t lessen his annoyance at the sneaky brat. The toys in the living room wouldn't change his plan to dye the brats uniform at all. Not even when the next time he felt crashing and didn't spiral downwards because somehow Damian got a new mission again, suspiciously close to another panic attack. Titus was a common guest these days. 

If instead of a ruined uniform, new drawing pens appeared on Damian's desk, well no one would be the wiser.

It wasn't as if he would ask why Damian would do that, no way it was a coincidence. Not with the amount of detectives in the family.

Jason wouldn't ask.

And Damian wouldn't tell.

As long as Jason was able to hug the little hairy troublemaker and make him walk in the rain everything was okay and no one would ask any dumb questions.


	2. Tim

Out of all of his brothers, Tim thought he was the one least affected by their nightlife. The one able to deal with his feelings the best. Or the worst as he tended to ignore them, no time to dwell on anything. There was too much work to do, too many choices and too many people dependent on him.

He just didn't have the time to break down.

There was only one time in the year he took for himself. Not even a whole day, there was no point in wasting a full 24 hours. He would already lose a few hours more to nurse a headache from crying, it would be dumb to not take that fact into account even if he could sleep it off.

Normally he would also choose a time where none of his family would be around to witness such a waste of time, else he would need to take into account that Dick would want to cuddle the sad out of him or whatever nonsense his oldest brother tried to feed him. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of Jason, not because of the stupid kid crush he used to have, more because he idolized the second Robin and wouldn’t want to be teased for that. Jason never took anything seriously, not even feelings and he didn’t even want to start with Damian. Damian would scold him for being a disgrace to the family by showing weakness like that.

He knew it would bite him in the ass, if he didn’t pay attention to the lesser controllable part of his body. That was the only reason why he was doing this. It was better to have an outlet once in a while than to explode. His brothers and even Bruce were the examples he was giving himself. Storing strong emotions wasn’t a good thing but it wasn’t helpful to let them control himself either. Therefore damage control.

This time it was earlier than usual, unexpected. It was a feeling that crept closer and closer and even if he tried to shove it away he just sighed and went on with it, waiting for at least a few of his family to go while he excused himself with homework and some project work that he needed to have finished for high school.

Load of bullshit.

Everything he needed to do was already done.

Tim locked the door and sat onto his bed, staring at the wall, right above the chaos on the floor. Whenever the feelings were bad, he would lose his ability to keep a clean space. Everything right now was chaos. There weren’t any clothes left in the closet. Books were lying around, notes, pens. Parts of his uniform and a lot of technical things he needed to check or fix.

Normally there would be food too, open boxes of pizza, delivered with Alfred’s disapproving gaze. Mugs half full of coffee. Energy drinks here and there.

Nothing of that.

Alfred must have cleaned the worst, not touching the rest of the stuff that couldn’t form a sentient will and kill him in his sleep. He would need to tidy the rest himself as only he knew which kind of organizing was behind all of his stuff.

His eyes wandered from the chaos to the calendar, staring at the numbers for a few seconds before he felt his eyes starting to sting.

Damn.

Tim wasn’t the sentimental one. He didn’t want to be.

Janet Drake had been the woman to give him life. But she hadn’t been the person that had given him love and a home. Well that wasn’t fair, she just hadn’t been there because of the work. She hadn’t deserved to die.

He hadn’t deserved to lose her.

Neither to lose his father, first crippled, then dead.

Surprisingly it was his mother's date of death today and as he normally tried to avoid it, his brain had decided to make him take a break right that day. Suspicious as hell, hopefully none of the others were taking the clue.

At least they weren’t working on a bigger case right now.

He wouldn’t be able to concentrate like this and it would be way more complicated to explain his absence. 

Tim sniffed and tried to blink the tears away that were slowly starting to form.

There were different kinds of tears a body could form but this one, this right there were emotional tears. Chemical reaction to strong emotional stress, anger, physical pain or suffering. Mourning. They were drowning in hormones especially Leu-enkephalin, a natural Painkiller. He knew everything about the mechanism in a human body but he couldn’t make it stop. Neither could the damn hormones, because his chest felt like it was ripped apart, like something ugly clawed his way back out of him.

He wished for it to stop.

Tears had always been unnecessary. No one to comfort him during his life anyway, not that comfort could make the facts go away. Tim knew that nothing would change but maybe it would feel good for a moment to seek comfort in his brothers arm, Dick the one being the most possible candidate to not laugh at him or make fun of the situation.

Then again Dick was also the one most possible to want to talk about it and try to make it _ _ better _ _. Tim didn’t need someone to fight his wars for him, neither did he need someone to try to see reason in something that couldn’t be changed. There was just no point in drawing hope where no hope ever could help. Not everyone came back from the death and even if, it wouldn’t be different than before he was all alone.

Alone.

A shiver run through his body, a feeling that something wasn’t right. There hadn’t been a presence in the room when he had entered, had it? There were goosebumps on his arms and his eyes were not able to adjust fast enough when something small bounced into his stomach.

For a split second he was sure he would die.

Then the small something started to purr and poke him into the stomach, small paws treading into his legs, claws digging into his trousers, barely grazing skin but pointy enough to blink away the tears, the shock of being useless in times of emotional breakdown. Tim stared down at the black fur on his lap, carefully lifting his hands to lay them in short, surprisingly soft fur.

Alfred.

Not the man of course, it was the cat. Damian’s cat, his brain helpfully supplied. Confused he looked at the cat, then at the closed door. He could have sworn the door had been closed the whole time and that the cat hadn’t come inside with him neither had it been there when he went into his room. He had seen it lurking in front of the fireplace, happy to be petted by Damian. Who would kill Tim for letting Damian’s cat into his room.

Another headbut to his stomach made him smile a little bit, carefully he stroked through the soft fur, reaching out for the cat’s little head to pet it softly between the ears. Obviously it wasn’t enough as the head turned and rubbed his cheek rather hard on Tim’s knuckles. Seemed as if someone wanted to be pet a bit stronger.

Dutifully he scratched Alfred underneath his chin, happy to receive a loud purr that didn’t seem to stop. It was like a little motorcycle was sitting on his lap, demanding to be cared for.

Damian wasn’t there and he wouldn’t go near Tim’s room for the obvious reason that Damian didn’t like Tim so at least he could steal the cat for a bit. Cat’s were independent creatures and perhaps Damian wouldn’t miss him too soon.

Tim didn’t know when the tears stopped and honestly he didn’t really care, only wriggling a bit around to get himself comfortable, lying back into the cushions, Alfred on his belly where he could reach the black cat everywhere. It was fascinating to finally be able to touch him without fearing to lose his fingers.

Alfred clearly loved the attention, wriggling here and there and demanding to be scratched here and there, with a lift of his butt or a clear turn of his head when it seemed that he had enough. Tim watched him stretch, then leave his belly and almost wanted to beg to come back, when Alfred only turned and laid down next to Tim, curling in on himself and yawning widely.

“Tired are you?”

His voice was raspy but no one would hear the clear sign of exhaustion so he didn’t try to hide it. Carefully to not disturb Alfred, he laid down on his own side, legs drawn to his belly, a little bit curled around Alfred, one hand lying softly on the fur. It was nice to feel it underneath his fingers. The purring started again and Tim didn’t fight his eyes growing heavy, his mind blank but not the bad kind of blank more the good kind where everything was okay and no worries were present. He didn’t know when he had felt like that for the last time but he also didn’t think about it, just let himself be lulled into sleep with soft cat noises, the raising and falling of the little creatures chest. It didn’t take long and he was out like a light, sleeping deep enough to not wake up when someone moved inside his room.

The person moved a soft blanket from the bed and slowly lowered it on Tim. Alfred lifted his head a tad bit, blinked at the person before he continued to purr, closed his eyes and laid his head onto his paws.

Alfred was gone the next morning when Tim woke up, warm and content, energized and somehow happy, without even knowing what had happened the night before. Normally he felt like shit afterwards, in need of a lot of coffee to go through the day, dark circles underneath his eyes, but this time it felt lighter, felt as if something had changed inside of him, something that wasn’t hollow anymore. Not that a lot had changed, he still felt the sadness but it didn’t seem to be as dark as the day before. Tim didn’t know about the smile gracing his lips when Alfred purred around his ankles to get to his favourite bowl, he didn’t reach out for the cat as Damian was in the room with him, watching him like a hawk, but it was enough to make him go for a few weeks more.


	3. Dick

It had been a stressful week.

Nothing new, nothing out of ordinary. Just a normal day in his everyday work.

Dick didn't know when it became that exhausting. Always alert, always on fire, always trying to figure out when the next shit went down.

Maybe he should have searched for another job instead of running around as a cop. He had the skill, he had the guts and he could do a lot and at the same time clean up after himself like that way better than without being a cop but a helpful friend inside of the police department should have been enough too.

No.

He had chosen this way, Fighting alongside the brave policeman and woman to make the world a better one. At least that's what he told himself all the time.

When he came back from work, tired and muscles hurting from all freaking paperwork that he needed to do after every time something went wrong. From running after criminals but not being allowed to go full force else his comrades would suspect who he really was. The work as a police officer was different from the work as a vigilante but both of them were straining.

He missed to flip and to run in the air, to jump from rooftop to rooftop whenever he was on the ground and he missed to see the world from the ground when he was high in the air. A lot of cases as Nightwing were cleared when he finished it with the insider knowledge of Dick Grayson the police officer and a lot of cases were closed when he used his access to the batcave or his own notes whenever they needed it.

Dick couldn't do everything, he was only human and there was so much crime. Sometimes it felt too much to even make a dent in it.

Sometimes he felt as if neither Dick Grayson nor Nightwing could save the day. As if all their struggle to make this world better were for nothing.

Dick didn't know how Bruce could live with that stress, also caring for all of his children and not despairing when something went down.

He wasn't as strong as Batman.

He wasn't as as Jason.

He wasn't as witful as Tim.

He wasn't full of hope and energy as Damian.

Dick Grayson was only tired.

Especially after this day, where they only stopped a small robbery but still a young womanhis had been shot. Technically she was a year older than himself but he just didn't feel his age. It felt as if she was much younger, crying in his arms when he tried to stop the bleeding. She hadn't cried loudly, only a small sobbing, seeming to be so much stronger than he felt himself at the moment. Why where there always innocents to suffer? Why couldn't they stop every crime, every bad thing to happen? Why were there so many ill bringing people around and so few heroes to make a difference?

Tired he rubbed his eyes and looked up to the stairs. Fifth story. His legs felt too weak, too heavy but he forced himself to take step after step.

An elevator that wasn’t damaged 5 days out of seven would be nice.

It felt like it had taken forever when he finally reached his own floor.

He would totally skip patrol for that day to lay down into the bathtub and then lay down onto the couch for him to only flop onto his bed and hug his pillow and hope for nothing to come. Which was a dream that would never happen.

Maybe he should have gone to the cute guy he met earlier on another case but hopping into bed with a suspect was damn unprofessional.

The moment he reached the end of the floor and the door of his room he regret to not follow his lower parts but his brain when there was his neighbour staring at him. Only wearing a boxershort which really wasn't distracting at all, he reminded Dick a bit of Slade and Slade had been high on his list of potential partners to get his head free.

"Dude. What's that noise coming from your apartment?"

Dick froze.

Noise from inside of his apartment, loud enough to alert his neighbours? Something was entirely wrong.

"Go back into your room, everything is okay." By default he used his Nightwing voice for scared civilians especially kids. The guy leaned closer to Dick, staring him right in the eye and shaking his head.

"No way. Whatever is in there, I wanna see it. Might also be that you need help."

Good. He shouldn't talk, because that was as far away from Slade as he could be but the guy was right. Dick might need some help, especially if one of his enemies had found out about his apartment. Then again he would need help from some of the Bats and not a hot guy in a boxershort.

A strange noise interrupted his thoughts and without even thinking twice how bad of a decision it was he opened his door and rushed into the apartment. It had sounded like the table had been broken apart.

Dick could only stare at the amount of damage done to his apartment, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

"Dude. That's a freaking cow in your apartment. How the heck did you bring it up here? We’re living on the fifth floor. We don't even have an elevator. Does it have a cowl? OMG. It looks exactly like "

"Batcow." Dick breathed out confused.

"YES! God. You're a nerd, wouldn't have pictured you for one but I like that. Did you dye it’s fur? That can’t be healthy.”

Hot guy frowned at him and Dick bit out a laugh. Damian would kill him if he laid hand on his beloved pet cow.

“It’s my brothers. Honestly I don’t know how it came here, I was at work the whole time.”

There wasn’t even a hole in the wall. There were two options now, the first was someone had played a rather bad joke, the second someone wanted Dick dead. No one messed with Damian’s pets. Everyone would end up dead just thinking about it.

Dick’s mind was surprisingly blank. What did one do with a cow in their living room? Especially knowing that he wouldn’t be able to bring it  _ *back*  _ to where it belonged. 

“...Gross.”

Dick was thrown out of his stupor and looked over to his still shirtless neighbour who took a step back away from batcow. Who just happened to lose the content of it’s bowls onto the floor.

Dick could only nod. Thank god he didn’t have plush or carpet on his floor, they were a Hassle to get clean when you bled on it. Hence no fancy carpets for Vigilantes.

Somehow the smell filling the room was what seemed to be killing the last fragile straw called his nerves and he just let himself flop down onto the floor, pathetically sniffling and blinking away tears. Nothing in his life was getting right.

A warm hand rubbed his back.

“Easy there. It’s too late to call your brother about his cow, but I think it’s save in here. There’s nothing it could hurt itself at.”

Surprisingly hot guy was right. Every item on the wooden table had been removed, the empty dishes were gone. Even his dirty clothes were gone and the room had smelled fresh and cleaned except for the smell of cow. There was hay in the corner and food in batcows bucket on the floor. It looked exactly like it did at home.

“If it’s okay for you, you can crash at my place. Got some leftover food too. Only problem there’s only one bed and no couch so if you don’t mind me playing octopus at night, you have a place to sleep.”

Hot guy had a defensive gleam in his eyes, as if Dick would scold him for being gay or not having a couch.

“That’s okay. I think I’m in need of some cuddles. Also you look like a wonderful big spoon, even if I think that you should put on a shirt. It’s quite distracting.”

That brought a wide grin on hot guy’s face, who had the guts to actually wink at him and reach out, to help Dick to get up from the floor, showing off the rather impressive muscles in his arms.

“Just not looking for something stable, but if I’m reading it right you’re always welcome to knock on my door.”

Dick took the hand and got up, wide smile on his lips.

“No time for something stable either.”

Looking over the room he patted batcow on her side, mouthing a genuine thank you when he spotted a coded message, clearly from his little Brother. They all had different styles to leave messages. His smile turned into laughter and a slight blush. What seemed like normal information helped a big deal right now.

Neighbour retired villain.

Clean bill of health.

Close superveillance required.

BC will be taken back by superboy next morning. Needed a place to stay.

Heh. Dick could do close. It wasn’t unusual to look after retired villains, sometimes even helping them to stay on the right path if it looked like they were really trying but life was getting in the way. The clean bill of health was important too, if it came to a fight. They all did blood test after every mission whenever they were hurt or got in contact with something. A safety measure that could save lifes. Dick was pretty sure Damian would sneer at him for using the information for something banal as fornicating and his little brother wouldn’t want him to go to bed with a villain or former villain. There was a certain amount of danger to sleep with a person like that, even if they didn’t know who he was. Especially when they didn’t know. Then again, sex with Slade had always been the best in uniform. It was an easy way to forget and at the same time exhaust his body to a point where he was able to sleep rather peacefully. It maybe wasn’t healthy at all but no one in his family could judge. Smiling he closed the door, reaching out for the hot, retired villain.

“I’m Dick by the way.”

Hot guy snorted and shook his head, opening the look and holding the door for Dick to step in.

“I’m Conan van Hise.“

Well. Conan was a nice name to scream. A last longing gaze over said man’s chest before he grabbed his hand and made sure he didn’t think twice. This was exactly what he needed right now.


	4. Bruce

Bruce was exhausted.

Dividing his attention between working with the Justice League, guarding and supervising the Watchtower while Clark was away with Diana on some space mission and cleaning the streets of Gotham as Batman was already enough. Additional he now needed to take care of Wayne Enterprise too, a task he had shoved at one of his youngest children without thinking twice.

Guilt gnawed at his intestines when he remembered Tim walking into the kitchen, eyes closed, roaming the freezer to take out some Black Bull, mixing it up with a triple espresso. At first he had thought it a strange accident until Tim repeated the procedure for a second time, then finding his tie and finally greeting Alfred and himself as if he just got aware of his surroundings.

Tim’s phone had binged before anyone was able to greet him in return and the young man rushed out of the house, breakfast and lunch box forgotten. Well not forgotten. Alfred informed him with a firm and displeased tone that Tim didn’t have time to eat during work.

Bruce felt like a little child again for not doing his homework. Alfred seemed displeased that Bruce laid a huge amount of responsibilities onto still so young Tim’s shoulders. It wasn’t fair. Sometimes he forgot that they weren’t adults, that they were children. Technically they were of course adults, but they hadn’t had the chance to have a childhood.

It was his fault.

Bruce knew that all of them would have searched for a way to go out and burn through their energy, their anger and their problems. It had been his responsibility as a father to show them healthy ways but who was he kidding, dressing as a Bat and hunting the night wasn’t a very good example, was it? He should have encouraged them in other things, not sweet talked them into pixie boots and let them loose on criminals twice their size.

He felt guilty enough to set Tim on vacation, a fact that should have made the young man happy, instead he looked like someone had murdered his favourite laptop. Sometimes Bruce forgot how much they wanted to please him. It felt like whatever he did was wrong, would lead into his children thinking they had done something  _ *wrong*. _

It was the same when he squeezed Jason’s shoulder, telling him he did good that night. Jason had frozen like a deer in the headlight, immediately asked what he had done wrong that time, that he hadn’t even grabbed for his guns and what he needed to do to not be a disappointment. Bruce had tried to reason with Jason that he really was proud of him but the words hadn’t left his moutz. It was devastating.

Even Dick had looked at him like Bruce was brainwashed when he thanked him for his good assistance. Damian had only stared at him when he suggested going to the new ice cream parlor he heard had opened.

They seemed to have some really disgusting things like ice cream with garlic and cheese. The exact place where all of his children would go “batshit crazy” or whatever the youngsters were saying these days.

All in all Bruce was done. He didn’t want to fight with his children anymore, he just wanted to spent some time with them. For them to know that he loved all of them equally and was proud of them. Was that too much to wish for? Was he too much of a bad dad to get them to know that he just feared for them?

“Sir?”

Bruce snapped out of his thoughts, painfully aware that all eyes were on him. Right. He was at a Wayne Enterprise meeting. A nervous but very brave woman raised her hand.

“Is Mr. Drake okay?”

There was a telltale silence, it almost seemed as they hoped for Tim to open the door and rescue them. Bruce refused to close his eyes and cry.

“He is fine. I decided for him to take some time off to have a bit fun and not just work. It was a surprise from me for his excellent work.”

His shareholders nodded, clearly not convinced and Bruce cringed when he thought how they could interpret everything of this. 

Thankfully he didn’t need to think of another thing to say because one of the gentleman suddenly started to scream.

Bruce looked over to the bald man who looked under the table, seconds later all hell break loose. A feathered demon attacked out of the dark, jumping onto the man, who punched it back out of reflex, throwing it onto the table, where it started to scream. Bruce could only stare, while the turkey screamed bloody murder at the people who scattered around the room and equally screamed back. It reminded him of home when all his children were together in one room. The perfect receipt for disaster.

The brave woman from before raised her papers to hit the turkey and that’s when Bruce knew he needed to intervene.

“Stop! That’s my sons’s pet! His name is Jeremy!”

At least Bruce hoped it was Jeremy and not some evil bird from whatever new villain arising out of the dark. On the other hand what would a wild turkey do at Wayne enterprise in the conference room?

Then again this was Gotham.

Nothing here was normal.

The animal, thank god, had stopped screaming. To his great horror it has even stopped to pay attention of the other occupants in the room. Jeremy stared at Bruce, slowly lying his head to the side as if asserting the situation.

“Uh… Boss?”

Bruce could just stare at Jeremy when the turkey shouted out in what was either glee or a warcry and ran over the table towards Bruce. Papers were flying everywhere and if he wore his cowl he would have easily been able to dodge. Sadly he was Bruce Wayne and needed to stay frozen when the roundabout 20 pounds heavy turkey slammed into his stomach.

“Urgh!”

Bruce felt himself stumble backwards, tripping over a chair and went flying, landing heavily on his back, jeremy looming over him victoriously. He was pretty sure this wouldn’t have happened with Tim as leading operator of this meeting. Jeremy didn’t care at all for the ruckus he had caused, just sat down onto Bruce and started picking at Bruce's jacket, causing the fabric to rip and reveal some corn. Wherever that came from.

If Bruce had been a lesser man he would have cursed. Then he reminded himself that he wasn’t batman at the moment but Bruce Wayne.

“What the fuck.”

From his place at the floor he could take a look underneath the table, spotting Jeremy's bed. Obviously Damian had deemed it a quiet place while he was away, meeting is mother (Which he never openly said, but Bruce trusted damian and he trusted Talia to not kill her own son). Why the cave wasn’t okay for Jeremy to stay over anymore, he wouldn’t understand. Then again sometimes it was better to just go with his kids antics than try to see reason. Even if it meant to have a curious turkey picking at his pockets.

His children would have a field day just looking at it.

For a second he wanted to move but then he grabbed his phone, snapping a few pictures. Bruce could see the shareholders staring at him, out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever, they could think of him whatever they want, he had an idea in his mind and he would follow with it whether they liked it or not.

“The meeting is over. It will be rescheduled when Tim’s back out of vacation.”

  
  


The feeling in his belly was definitely pride when the shocked expressions morphed into relief. His son really was loved and respected in this company and it made his heart swell. They all did so good. Better than one would have thought after being raised by him.

Jeremy meanwhile made himself a place on his stomach and Bruce decided that the floor was kinda comfortable. Carefully he moved his other arm to be able to type on the phone with two hands and without interrupting the turkey in it’s meal.

Before he could make up his mind his fingers flew over his phone, creating a new group and adding all his children into it. Hopefully Jason wouldn’t back out as soon as he saw the family chat. He quickly wrote “ Tim. The board loves you more than me. Also we were taken over by Jeremy. He’s in charge now.” and added one of the pictures that showed Jeremy on his belly, papers lying all around them and various members in clear distress.

He just wanted to close his phone when he saw the little icon telling him that Jason was writing, then Tim. Holding his breath he waited for their responses.

Jason: How the hell did you get my number?

Jason: Whatevs. Go Jeremy! Sucks to be you Timmy

Jason: Have fun getting your job back. lol

Tim: What the hell..?!

Dick: What is happening right now?

His children started bickering, not caring at all that it wasn’t their secret Robin-chat, instead one where he could read what they were talking about, even answering. His fingers itched to respond to a few things but instead he just smiled. Maybe he did right this time. It was to the expense of his own dignity but did that really matter? Not with his children 

  
  


Tim: Shall I return to WE?

Tim: Bruce?

Jason: Yeah, old man, answer the question. Stop lurking around. Tim’s the stalker not you

Tim: I am not!

For a few seconds he hesitated before his fingers moved again, slower this time, but with determination.

Bruce: There’s a new ice cream place that I want to check out. Would saturday around 3pm okay for you all? My treat.

Bruce hit send before he could think about why this was a bad idea, why none of his kids would like to spend the afternoon with him when his phone binged with an immediate answer.

Jason: The one where you can choose your own flavour? Heck yes!

Dick: I’m free on saturday, I’m in.

Tim: I need to fix WE first

Jason: Spoilsport. Replacement is in too.

Bruce shook his head, amazed that they would really come. At least he hoped for it to be real and to happen. Then again his Children didn't lie. And he added Alfred to the chat, they wouldn't want to disappoint him. And maybe, maybe they did it for him too. It was totally worth it to still lie on the floor, his chest warm with happiness and not just because Jeremy had dropped down on him to sleep. Now he only needed to hear from Damian to be really happy.

  
  
  
  



	5. Alfred

Working for this family was something Alfred would never change for another single thing on the world. Of course it was straining, he wasn’t the youngest anymore. At least his body wasn’t. His mind was still as agile as it had been years ago. Keeping up with the shenanigans of this family was surely helpful. He just wished for them to be spared of all the pain, mentally as well as physically. None of them deserved what they were going through and he could only lessen it a bit. Soothing their pain and their worries. Sometimes it seemed as if he was the only thing to keep them from falling apart. It was a shame really. That even him wasn’t able to show them how to express their love and respect for each other. Instead they were suffering all alone, trying to not be a burden, trying to make it easier for the others but at the same time hurting them with their behaviour.

It wasn't an easy life for the members of this family but Alfred had hopes that everything would be fine sometime. He had hope.

Especially when a giant, red dragon bat was trying to enter the kitchen without breaking the door.

"Oh my."

Alfred shook his head and clicked his tongue, hurrying to open the door for the animal, guiding it into the kitchen where it sat down onto the floor, reaching out for him.

"Is Master Damian sending you?" Alfred tutted at the confused puppy eyed gaze, shaking his head again. "Seems as if I looked rather disturbed in the last days, I'm sorry Goliath. Everything is fine."

It wasn't the right thing to say as the dragon bat cried out in disbelief, long tongue cleaning his face and nodding content. Amused Alfred patted it's head and turned back to his cooking.

"Okay, you can stay here for company, but you need to sit quietly and not interrupt me. I will cook you your favourite dessert as a gift."

That got the bat's attention and it squealed in delight, a thing he had clearly learned watching his favourite human. (Which seemed to be Stephanie, Damian following really close. Not that Alfred would call him out on that. It was a secret that Goliath admired the girl that much.)

Despise the squeak and the promise of dessert the dragon bat lurked in the corner, waiting for him to do something, body language clearly showing his distress.

Alfred couldn't blame him. Their heritages didn't fit together, not with them being arch enemies since creation.

At first he had been hesitant to accept the dragon bat in his home, but he had rescued Damian and everyone deserved a second chance. Especially after he learned the fate of the poor dragon bat. Alfred might be of a race that was bound to destroy the dragon bats but he wouldn't leave a poor orphan alone. He hadn't been disappointed. Goliath was clumsy and curious. More than once he needed to clean up after the giant bat and more than once Goliath destroyed something in the try to hide from him.

The fear of Alfred didn't stop Goliath to eat the food he laid out for him.

Alfred could only shake his head in silent amusement at the dragon bats behaviour.

He knew why Goliath was here right now.Alfred had seen Damians attempts to help his family even if he didn't know how to express it himself. It hurt Alfred that Damian still tried to play hard and cold, above them all when everything the boy wanted was a family that loved him. The kid had a heart of gold and he was able to find the gold in other people too, bringing out their greatest parts, even when he spit fire and seemingly shoved them all away.

The dragon bat was the same, trying to please, trying to fit in. Trying his best.

Alfred honored that.

"I could need a second hand, if you may please. Those vegetables need to be cut. But first you need to wash your hands."

Alfred knew that Goliath could cut things precisely, he trained alongside with Damian and had his own training course. Patiently he waited for the dragon bat to come out of it's corner, calmly showing him how he wanted and needed the vegetables. There was a huge amount of chives too, which he would use for the corned chicken goujons with garlic and chives he prepared for the bats living in the cave.

The dragon bat seemed to ponder if it was a good idea but the moment Alfred was turning his back at him, he started to wash his gigantic claws in the little water basin and started to work. Not without drowning almost everything in water of course.

Alfred smiled and shook his head but tried to ignore the panicked attempts to dry everything with a tablecloth. Well. He needed to do the laundry anyway.

They worked alongside silently for at least half an hour, Alfred thinking about why Damian seemed to think he was troubled, not other explanation why he would give one of his pets to him to soothe his worries. Of course there had been a lot of problems in the last days but nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he had forgotten to clean the paintings, or the Dinosaur. No. He had done that on Monday and it only needed a cleansing every three days and not every day. Whatever it was, Alfred was glad that Damian had send Goliath. He didn't like the creature hovering in fear what could happen or what Alfred could do to him.

Not that he planned to.

Goliath had proven that he was worthy to protect Alfred's family and therefore he had nothing to fear.

Working with the dragon bat was surprisingly soothing, even if Goliath was clumsy and knocked over things with his wings and his tail. It was amusing how the dragon bat panicked and tried to clean everything, all the while creating more chaos, causing him to laugh which in the end startled the bat more than he wanted.

"Thank you, Goliath." Alfred told him genuine, petting the confused bat through his fur. Alfred ignored the short freeze and focused on Goliath relaxing into the physical contact. All bats liked to be groomed.

"Without your help I wouldn't have managed so much in that short amount of time. I would be pleased if you chose to work alongside with me again."

Goliath clearly didn't know how to react to the praise, another thing he and other bats had in common. They weren't used to be told that they did good, all the while craving the attention and the praise.

"I'm glad you're Master Damian's friend and protector. You're doing great."

Alfred scratched Goliath between his ears, filled with warmth when he saw how the creatures eyes filled with pride and his chest seemed to swell. Goliath clearly loved Damian and would do everything for the boy. Alfred wouldn't have lied to him. Goliath was a great protector and a good friend, he and Damian learned a lot from each other.

"Now come on, we still need to fry the chicken. The bats are getting hungry and we don't want them to torment poor Master Tim. Last time they tried to steal his sandwich and he was rather displeased."

Goliath nodded enthusiastically and helped frying them with his fire. This would clearly come in handy for some dessert he wanted to serve, they could work on a little show for the masters. Alfred was sure Damian would love it. Jason and Tim too, both a little on the pyromaniac side, if only one managed to hide it better than the other.

Everything aside it was a pleasant afternoon and Goliath followed to make sure everything was right and to gain more praise and pets which Alfred happily delivered. It was scarce that one of this family showed physical affection and Alfred was sure that Goliath would shower Damian with it. Yes. It was a good day.

  
  



	6. Damian

Not for the first time Damian wished he hadn't sneaked out of his home, away from his father, his so called brothers. Bothering and dumb as they were they wouldn't have let him walk alone right into this trap, set up by his grandfather. Of course he should have known that meeting with his mother was bound to call the great Ra's al Ghul to the surface to get his claws into his flesh.

At least that insufferable idiot Drake wasn't here or else his grandfather would have tried to catch not only one Robin, but a former one too. Not that he was able to understand the obsession with the coffeeloving moron who never lived up to his full potential, rather hid in the background. A treat Damian would never envelop.

A sword almost managed to cut through his arm, no gauntlets to protect his skin, no cape to be able to fly. He had abandoned his uniform and his phone when he went to meet his mother. Damian had left the device at home, as his father wouldn't refrain from locating his phone and he wasn't ready for his parents to meet, even if they didn't seem keen on hurting each other.

He had other problems to solve right now than the one sided love his mother still inhabited on toward his father who only seemed to have eyes for the cat lady. His mother would be furious to learn that he had indeed met her and approved of the woman, not only to the fact that she cared for her animals like he did.

It had been one of her stories that planted the idea to sooth his brothers pain with his pets that they were finally able to concentrate on their work again and stop being selfish and hide on their own. It was horribly unprofessional of them to let lesser emotions rule them instead of their higher brain functions. If some of them even owned them. At least Grayson seemed to have some even if it pained Damian to know that his mentor was weak for the desires of the flesh.

The assassin coming for him yelled out in pain when Damian managed to pierce his hand with a pencil he had snatched from the table seconds before. On the other side he could be happy that Grayson wasn’t here either. His dating history with former and active villains indicated that he could also lay his eyes onto Ra’s al Ghul. The man seemed to like older men, most probably to some Daddy issues as Damian had learned to call them from Stephanie.

Why his older brothers were such idiots when it came to coping mechanism he would never know.

Not that he really cared, he just knew that his father cared about them and they needed to keep it together for his father to keep it together. That’s what the main issue was to be a Robin. Making sure that Batman wouldn’t lose it.

It showed that his father was a strong man, as neither one of the three former Robins had been able to sufficiently master this task.

Grayson, as talented as he was, seemed to never shut up and wasn’t able to scare criminals with his bubbly, too friendly behaviour. Even if Damian was sure the man would rather sit in the corner and cry because he was an emotional nitwit that even tried to care for criminals instead of just abandoning them as they deserved. Letting them hurt him by overpowering him in the bedroom wasn’t helping either. It just gave away his weaknesses. 

Todd on the other hand didn’t have those issues. He wouldn’t try to “hug the sadness out of a person” instead he would beat it out of them, sometimes even going so far as to end a life that wasn’t worthy anymore. Damian didn’t agree with his father here but he was bound to learn why his father had chosen his way. It seemed more preferable than Todd’s, as the former failure-Robin still seemed to suffer from the blood on his hands which was rather ridiculous. Why kill when he wasn’t able to stomach it?

Not even to start with Drake who’s mechanism included to bottle up everything akin to emotions only to let it out on some days where he lied to his family even if everyone knew what he was doing alone in his room. On top of that no one called him out on that!  
It wasn’t even helping, the dark bags underneath his eyes and shaking in his hands, dead eyes looking into the distance. Despise his bodies young age Drake seemed to be older than Alfred.

Boneheads. All of them.  
How could he learn to be a functional human when his role models were incapable of taking proper care of themselves, let alone other people.

Another assassin failed to behead him and joined the failed ones unconscious on the floor. There were too many and even with his skills and knowledge Damian knew he wouldn’t be able to succeed. Gritting his teeth he thought about his family and how his death would impact them. Not that he could do anything against that. At least he knew they were able to take care of his animals, even if Dick refused to let Batcow live in his apartment. She was able to live in the batcave, a bit height would only do wonders for her fur.

Would they miss him?

Damian wasn’t sure if he meant his pets, his beloved friends or the people he slowly and - very hesitant - started to call his family in his head. Caring for another human being, let alone taking it into the family, treating it as equal, beloved. It was something his grandfather had trained out of him.

And yet they all have managed to sneak into his life, into his very heart.

Pennyworth with his dry humour, his magick hands to create things he had loved to eat and to drink. The poorly hidden horror when it didn’t taste the same. Didn’t taste the same because it lacked the poison it usually was laced with.

Drake who had shown him videogames, at first he had thought the man only wanted to make fun of him because the concept proved to be foreign. Until he had learned that no one played with the guy because he was too good in it. It was surprisingly pleasant to ruin his highscores and replace “Best Robin” with “True Heir”, especially when he could hide and hear the outraged yell when Drake found out about it.

Grayson with his sunny behaviour, the way he accepted him as a part of the family from the start, not doubting him for a second. He was everything and nothing Damian had ever dreamed for a brother.

Todd that was so much as himself, not that he would ever say that out loud. The constant fear that his family would cast him out like they had with Todd, only lessened by the knowledge that they still cared, still tried to get him back. That they hadn’t cast him out for good more like until he found himself and was willing to come back on his own. The Todd that kidnapped him once in a while, to spend a quiet evening, both of them reading or eating chilli dogs, some horrendous abomination Pennyworth would never approve of.

His father who just accepted him. 

His father that didn’t even know he existed just took him in to raise him like the son he was.

Fools.

All of them.

And yet Damian was the greatest fool to think they would mourn him when he died here.  
He had done nothing to make them like him back. Not able to get out of his skin, to show them or tell them that he came to like and accept them. That his life felt lonely and just not right when he thought that one of them could be missing.

It was just right for his Grandfather to teach him a lesson for becoming weak.

“Hey you asshole! Keep your hands of my brother or you will fucking lose them.”

Startled by the familiar voice Damian stumbled and almost ran into the sword coming for him, only blocked by a Bo-staff, appearing at his side.

“That’s two dollars for the swear-jar, Hood!”

Damian stared with wide eyes at Red Robin who gave him a thumbs up, Red Robin who stood there in full costume with Alfred curled on his shoulders, the cat hissing at the attackers.  
The ninjas stopped in their attacks, clearly taken back by the reinforcement that even Damian hadn’t seen coming.

There was Titus with Red Hood by his side, the dog clad in a Robinlike costume which looked rather ridiculous on him. Goliath had two other assassins in his pranks, Pennyworth sitting on his shoulder like he belonged there, the shine of the light in the room giving him something akin to angel wings for a moment. Clearly a trick of light but something he would loved to draw. Pennyworth surly would appreciate it.

Father with Jeremy on his heels was there too, holding a little device in his hands.

“Do not ever try to attack a member of my family again, Ra’s. You won’t like it when we come for you.”

The device was crashed in Batman’s hand and Damian could only stare at the assassins fast retreat, now that they were not only outnumbered but most likely called back by his Grandfather. 

“Father.”

He wished his voice didn’t sound so small, sound more like him but it didn’t.

“How did you find me?”

“Stalking’s a bat way to show they care.” Todd grinned at him and poked Drake into the ribs who stumbled a step side wards. Damian ignored the outraged yelp and growled at Todd, right when Nightwing came into the room, sitting on…

“Grayson! How dare you! Batcow is not a mount!”

He should have never left her with him. And here he thought his oldest brother would be the wisest too but obviously he was wrong.

“Aw come on little Brother, she loves me.”

Batcow mooed and looked way to happy with a cape and her own mask.  
A heavy, clothed hand landed on his shoulder, squeezed it lightly. Damian knew his father was looking for injuries, his brothers had done too, carefully scanning the place for more traps or hidden assassins.  
Damian just wanted to go home.  
Back to his pets that all circled him and nudged him from different sides, abandoning the people they should have lightened up. On the other side all of them seemed to be quite happy and at ease. Nothing he could say about himself right at the moment.

“Come on, demon brat. Let’s get you home. Calling in movie night and tomorrow we’re going to the ice cream heaven Bruce told us about. Have you seen the chat he created? It’s hilarious.”

Damian hadn’t and he really didn’t know what they were talking about. Looking up at Batman he saw him smiling, actually smiling fondly at their banter, then looking down and reaching for Damian to hold him up and carry him around his hip.

“Father! I’m too old for this! I insist you let me down.”

“You will always be my son. And if I want to carry you, I will carry you.”

Batman ignored the clearly threatening growl coming from him, maybe because he hid his face in the crook of his neck, closing his eyes, now that he finally felt safe. He still didn’t know why they were there, why they saved him, after everything he has done to them.

“Because we're a family and we might not always act like one, but we sure as hell go down like it.”

“Hood. You need to work on your motivation talks… That was awful.”

“Come on, you’re both awful. This just screams like a big pile of brotherly hugs are needed and no one of you is doing it. I’m ashamed. What have I done wrong, raising you?”

Damian could feel his father shaking, for a second he thought the comment had hurt him but when he looked up there was clearly laughter in his eyes. It was nice to see until a sadistic smirk appeared on his face.

“If I’m the father, does that make you the mother, Dick?”

Damian scrunched his nose in disgust and didn’t even try to suppress the shudder that ran through him. Neither did any of the other former Robins try to suppress their stunned disgust.

“No real names in the field, Batman. Codenames.”

Pennyworth sounded horribly amused and the sheer absurdity of the whole situation made him laugh, then relax against his father's shoulder. They were ridiculous, but they were his.

His brothers and father. His Grandfather, because Pennyworth was more of a Grandfather to him than his own could ever be. His pets that seemed to like all of them and came to him, almost toppling them both over in the attempt to get a bit attention too.  
He couldn’t wait to come home, allowing himself this day of weakness, where he could just be Damian, son of Bruce Wayne, Brother of heathens. And if in the next following days he would be a bit softer than he normally was, no one would call him out on that.

The end


End file.
